Butterfly
by Simply.Broken
Summary: The new transfer student Ayame has been trying to write her song for months to no avail. Will her new obsession, the Host Club, and a certain host, provide inspiration? And what about her sister Emiko, who has a problem understanding other people?
1. Ayame

**Ayame's POV**

On our first day at Ouran Academy, my twin sister Emiko and I were not very happy. After all, we'd never really attended such a prestigious school before, and it made us a little anxious. Besides that, Emiko had had a concert the night before, and we were both tired from it. When we arrived at class, I understood why everyone immediately started whispering. As the teacher introduced us, Emiko yawned hugely, and rubbed her eyes, which had big dark circles under them.

"Class, please welcome Kazami Emiko, and Kazami Ayame. They will be joining us from their school in New York. I'm sure many of you recognize Emiko-san. Girls, take whichever seat is free."

We immediately scanned the room for seats next to each other, and found them by the window. Emiko sat down, leaning back in her chair and stretching her legs out. She seemed completely confident, even though I knew she hated being the new kid. She's really very shy.

I sat down and started to nervously adjust my bag. The teacher turned to the board and started writing out a math problem.

Emiko tried to pay attention, I'm sure, but her performance that night before had really tired her out. She started to doze off, and I kept on throwing pieces of paper at her to keep her awake. She didn't really appreciate it, but that's something that must be done.

The lesson was easy enough. Too easy, in fact. The classes were all very far behind where I'd left off at my school in New York. I was tempted to stop paying attention after a while, but I knew that wouldn't win me any points with the teachers. Who likes punks that immediately start slacking off on their first day?

Instead, I finished most of my work quickly and spent my time scoping out the class. The students were all supposedly from the richest, most influential families in Japan. They did seem a little different from our previous schools' students, I guess. Their skin was way too clear for most teenagers, implying that they used high quality and expensive skin products, and their movements were graceful and refined. They spoke formally to one another and to the teacher—no slang words like "dude" or "bro" or any lack of honorifics. Their faces were focused and attentive, but just a little aloof, as though they were at a workplace rather than school. But still, I could tell that they were just normal kids. Some of the girls would occasionally slip up in her aloof act and blush as she looked at a boy. Some kids doodled on their notes when they thought nobody was looking. Some of the boys in the back had started throwing around a paper airplane to each other when the teacher's back was turned. I smiled a little bit. This wasn't a place I couldn't handle.

As I turned to look back up at the board, I noticed a girl smiling at me. My heart skipped as I nodded at her. She was pretty cute—her hair was red, and her eyes were aqua. She was short, fair skinned, and delicate.

"Nakajima-san, pay attention," the teacher barked, and the redhead looked away from me.

Eventually, the bell rang for break, and almost immediately, a few students swarmed Emiko, where she had finally fallen into a snoring pile on her desk. I smiled faintly.

"Emiko, wake up," I said, prodding her.

She snorted and her eyes fluttered open. She took a look at the students all around her and rolled her eyes, drawling, "Watching me while I'm sleeping? Tch. Creeps…"

"Forgive her," I said to the shocked teenagers. "She's very tired."

"Are you _the_ Kazami Emiko?" a boy with light brown hair asked enthusiastically.

"Dunno. Don't care," she muttered.

"I love your band," a girl gushed. She smiled. "It's so sweet that you perform with your family!"

Yes, Emiko was in a band called "Stage Lights" with my father and cousin, Keisuke. I mentioned earlier that she was shy, which is strange, because she performs in front of hundreds of people at least once a week. She's one of the most famous rock stars today.

"Are you her sister?" the brunette boy asked me.

"…Yes," I said.

"You aren't a performer?" someone new asked, leaning against my desk. I looked up at her. She had a sweet face, and a kind smile.

"I am," I said. "I'm just less known."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, flushing. I suppose she thought she'd injured my pride by pointing out my unpopularity.

"I don't mind," I said.

Suddenly, there was a rumbling, and a space had appeared in front Emiko and me. A boy stood there, tall, but shorter than us, who was quite good-looking.

"Hello, my princesses," he said, sparkles floating around his being. "I don't believe we've been introduced. My name is Tamaki."

"Who cares?" Emiko muttered.

Tamaki-san chuckled a little. "Why, how nice to meet a straightforward princess. Surely your heart is as straightforward and honest as your fatigued words!"

Emiko looked up, inches away from his face. "Like hell it is. Now get out of my face, shorty."

Tamaki-san turned white. He disappeared into the corner of the classroom, a dark cloud of woe encircling his being. I made a face, and stood, walking over to him.

"I'm very sorry for her behavior," I said. "She isn't usually this hostile, I promise…"

He looked up at me. His eyes were watery and pitiful. He opened his mouth to speak, and then…

"I will accept your apology, princess!" he exclaimed, standing. All trace of unhappiness had disappeared. I gaped. He took my hand. "And may I just say, you have the beautiful hands of a musician. Tell me, do you play the piano?"

"Yes…" I said unsurely.

"I'm sure you play it very well, because right now you're playing the most beautiful song on my heart."

I blinked. "Er…?"

I guess he gets point for trying?

Nodding to Tamaki-san, I made my way back to my seat, a little shaken. _That_ was something I'd never experienced before.

The redhead had found her way over, and I stopped short to look at her staring up at me with her huge aqua eyes. (May I also point out that she had to look up at me, even though she was standing and I was sitting down?)

"Hello, Ayame-san," she said a little shyly. "My name is Mariko. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." She held out her hand, and I shook it.

"Likewise," I said.

"So, you are also a musician?" she asked. "What instruments do you play?"

I almost smiled, but I refrained. I really wasn't about to brag, and I didn't want it to seem like I was. "Well, I play the piano and cello very well, and I sing very well, too. Those are the things I focus the most on. But I also play the violin, guitar, trumpet, tuba, harp, and flute."

"Oh, my!" Mariko-san gasped.

"Don't let her count the guitar," Emiko said. "It sounds like a dying elephant when she plays it."

"Coming from miss famous guitarist over there," I said. "You think everyone is bad at the guitar."

"Because they all are," she murmured, adjusting her skirt. I felt a moment of pity for the two of us. That banana yellow just wasn't our color.

"Have the two of you gotten to know anybody here yet?" Mariko-san asked.

"No, we just finished moving in," I admitted. "We haven't had time to do much else until today."

"You should join the music club, Emiko-san," one of her fans suggested. "It would be a great way to meet people."

Emiko shook her head. "I don't plan on joining any school clubs. I have more important things to do, like band practice."

"Ah, I see," he noted with disappointment.

Mariko-san looked at him in annoyance. "Andou, be polite!"

Andou-san looked at her sheepishly. "What?"

"What about Ayame-san? She's a musician, too," Mariko-san reprimanded. "You could ask her, as well."

"Mariko-san—" I began.

"Oh, don't worry about honorifics," Mariko said. "Just call me Mariko."

Andou-san looked at me, a little red. "Please forgive me for my rudeness, Ayame-san. Please, come join us at the music club."

I raised my eyebrow. "Classical music?"

"Well, I'm talking about the classical music club, but there's also a chorus, and a jazz club, and a band, or an orchestra, if you aren't interested in that."

"I love classical music best," I admitted. "I would be very happy to join." I smiled.

Andou-san nodded, and looked away, embarrassed.

"It wasn't necessary to scold him," I told Mariko, also a little embarrassed. "I wouldn't remember me either."

"He's my brother," Mariko said dismissively. "I can scold him if I want."

I smiled. "I see. Well, then."

The bell sounded, signaling the end of break. Everyone rushed back to their seats. Emiko started snoring again. Sighing, I prepared more paper to throw at her.


	2. Emiko

**Emiko's POV**

After school was over, I watched as Ayame got ready to follow Andou to the classical music club.

"Tell mom where I am," she reminded me.

"Whatever," I muttered. I'd probably forget, but I figure that our parents can deal with a little panic once in a while.

"Have a good practice," Ayame said, leaving the classroom.

I leaned back in my chair. This was so boring. I didn't want to be here at all, and I didn't want to go to band practice. I don't even like the band that much. Just look at the band name: "Stage Lights." That's a disaster in itself, but my dad named it, so what should I do? And as if the god-awful name weren't enough, it's a _family_ band, and it's kind of awkward getting into interesting song topics (i.e., suicide, heartbreak, etc.) with your dad, or your cousin you don't even know that well. The only people who liked us were weirdo saps who had nothing else to do with their life but listen to clean songs sung by a trio of idiots. (Well, a duo of idiots, and me…)

I slowly started stuffing my books into my bag, but I kept dropping them. No more late performances anymore, not on school nights. It created too much trouble for me.

I slowly stood, slinging the bag around my shoulder. I hated the school uniform. The yellow dress not only made me look like a banana, but it was too short, because I was too tall for the girls' uniform. I'd had to schedule a fitting.

Another reason I hated the uniform: it was a _dress_. I may not be bisexual, like Ayame, or homo in any way, but I hated dressing like a girl. I only ever wore jeans, _maybe_ an occasional skirt with tights to a concert, but that was it.

Most of the students had lost interest in me by now, thank god. I guess my standoffish personality had turned them off. Whatever.

I walked to the front of the school, where the family limousine was waiting. Our driver, Klaus, who we'd hired when we lived in Germany, smiled as I slid into the backseat.

"Well, miss Emiko, how was your school day?" he asked, pulling down the street and away from the academy. His German accent was thick. I kind of felt bad that I'd never made an effort to learn German. Ayame was more of the linguist in our family.

"Boring," I drawled with a yawn.

"Did you meet any nice students?"

"Please," I muttered. "They're all predictable suck-ups. I have more important people to waste my time with."

Klaus chuckled. "I hope you didn't say that to them."

"I learn from my mistakes," I said. "You don't point out to people what they don't want to hear, because if you do, they'll throw an inconvenient fit."

"If that's the lesson you learned, maybe you need to retake the course," Klaus said.

"Whatever," I muttered.

The rest of the ride was silent. I pulled out my phone and started texting Ayame, who almost immediately told me to stop being annoying and interrupting her introduction to the music club. I rolled my eyes and put the phone away.

"Here we are," Klaus said crisply, pulling up to a clean, white building. "Your father said to go to the third floor practice stage."

"Thanks, Klaus," I said, sliding out of the limousine. "Oh! By the way, Ayame stayed at the school to join the classical music club, or some shit. When you pick up my mom, can you tell her?"

Klaus nodded. He didn't have to ask why I wouldn't mention anything to my father.

As I walked through the doors of the building, I let the crisp, clean smell of the music studio wash over me. It was new, just built when we moved to Japan. The first floor had the concert halls. As I walked up the stairs to the second floor, I found myself in the individual practice rooms, as well as the classroom area. One floor further, and I found the practice stages and recording rooms and meeting rooms.

I walked into the room with the practice stage we'd been using all week. It was just a small stage, but the room had the acoustics and the stage had the lights that had been made to perfectly imitate a huge concert hall, so we could practice in perfect conditions.

Keisuke, my cousin, barely nodded at me as I walked in. He was on his cell phone, talking to his girlfriend. My dad was busy getting the instruments set up.

"Emiko, how was school?" my dad asked enthusiastically.

"Meh. Could've been better."

"It'll probably be better tomorrow, when you've had rest," Dad said. "Do you want to go change?"

"Yes," I said, relieved. I pulled my normal clothes out of the bottom of my bag and headed back out of the practice room and down the hall to the bathroom.

I changed and looked in the mirror. My short black hair was messy, and had fallen out of its usual spiky fashion. There were dark circles under my black eyes, and due to my bleariness when I woke up this morning, my cat eyeliner was smudged, and my red lipstick looked pretty garish and messy. I guess I looked a little better now that I was out of that awful yellow dress and wearing my usual black jeans and T-shirt, but still…I've looked better.

Back in the practice room, Dad had finally finished setting up and was trying to get Keisuke to hang up the phone, but he seemed entirely intent on talking to his girlfriend for as long as he could.

Eventually, I just took the phone away, told his girlfriend he couldn't talk anymore, and hung up for him. Dad looked in my direction thankfully and started talking.

"Okay, guys, here's the thing: Ayumi has scheduled a new concert for us in Hokkaido next weekend, which gives us about ten days to prepare. This means at least one new song, and a lot of practice. She's also arranged for a pop singer from Spain to play with us, which means we have to work even harder to make sure that the performance flows, because we'll each be performing in a different language."

In case anyone is curious, Ayumi is my mom's name.

"Emiko, get a song written for us, and we'll arrange some music for it later."

I shrugged. "Whatever."

Keisuke asked, "How many songs are we doing?"

"Five, including the one Emiko's writing."

"That's a lot…" I said. "What time do you think the concert will be over?"

"Well, probably not until sometime after midnight, but that should be okay, right? It's a weekend, and none of us have any important plans…"

"What other four songs should we do?"

"Well, I think we should try 'Trains,' 'Tuna Sandwich,' and maybe 'Fanfiction,'" Dad said. "Any ideas on what the fourth should be?"

"Not 'Trains' again!" I groaned. "Dad, that's overkill. We play that every single time, at every single concert. Just because it's a hit doesn't mean we have to keep playing it. It'll get old fast at this rate."

"Well, which one would you suggest?" he asked, obviously kind of offended. "We haven't played yet in Hokkaido, so I don't think it would be too much of an overkill."

"Fine, but this is our last performance of it," I insisted. "I'm so sick of that song."

"Me, too," Keisuke agreed. "Let's do…'Road Kill' for our fourth."

My dad crinkled his nose. "Ugh. Why that one?"

"Uncle, it's the biggest hit besides 'Trains,'" Keisuke pointed out. "But we almost never perform it. Come on, let's do that one. I actually really like that one."

"Ayame's not the one performing it," I muttered. "She only wrote the lyrics…"

"We're not doing that song," Dad said firmly. "I want a song that's more unique."

I rolled my eyes. I don't know the reason why, but my dad just doesn't like Ayame. The reason she's not a part of the band is because Dad can't stand her. He rarely even performs the songs she writes for us, even though they turn out to be the most popular. I'd decided a long time ago not to tell him that most of the songs he told me to write really came from Ayame, who I beg to help me, so that we wouldn't become completely unpopular.

"We'll do 'Hijacked,'" he decided. His phone beeped, and his pulled it out, answering, "Hello, Ayumi. What else?"

He talked to her for a few minutes while Keisuke and I sat there. I felt like I was drowning in boredom.

He hung up. "Okay, great news now! A famous fashion designer just contacted Ayumi, and she wants us to advertise her clothes in the next concert. Which means, we're going to get paid some good money, and that we have to go to a fitting this Thursday."

"So soon?" I groaned.

"Three days away," Dad said cheerfully.

"Which designer?" Keisuke asked.

"Some Hitachiin lady," Dad said. "I didn't quite catch her first name. Are you familiar with her?"

"Sort of. My girlfriend loves her."

Dad nodded. "She's well-known, then. That's good. Hopefully, her name will attract a crowd. So, let's get started, guys."

We flocked to the stage. I picked up the guitar, and Keisuke stood at the keyboard with the mike in front of him. Dad sat down at the drums.

"Let's play 'Trains' one time through, okay?" he said.

Although Keisuke and I groaned, we nodded. Dad counted us off.


	3. Meeting the Host Club

**Ayame's POV**

"How was the music club?" Emiko asked as she brushed my hair.

"It seems like it'll be a lot of fun," I said with a smile. "There's a lot of members, but they all seem nice."

"You think everybody's nice," Emiko muttered.

"No, I don't. I call them nice until they prove me wrong."

I could practically hear Emiko rolling her eyes, but she didn't argue. She just kept brushing my hair. Emiko liked long hair, and was always jealous of mine. Her own hair never grew past her shoulders.

"So, is anybody better than you?" she asked.

"There are a few on the same level as me, but no, none are necessarily better."

The cat jumped up on the bed, purring his way over to sit between me and Emiko. I petted him happily. There are few things in this world that are nicer than cats. Maybe dogs.

"How was band practice?" I asked her.

"Ugh. Awful. We have a concert in Hokkaido, and we have to play with some Spanish person, and we need to advertise some stupid designer. Who cares about fashion? Who wants to look at clothes?"

I smiled a little. Emiko doesn't tend to think things through. But I guess I can think things through too much, so maybe that observation isn't my decision to make.

"Maybe the concert will be fun," I said. "Should I go see it?"

"No. Save yourself. It's gonna suck."

"Okay, I won't go. But it won't suck. And I'm sure that you'll play very well."

Emiko snorted. "Of course I will. I've been performing since I was nine. I'm not going to lose my nerve 'cause of some random Spanish superstar. Have you ever even _heard_ of anybody Spanish? Exactly."

I didn't say anything to her. She can fool anybody. Except me. Instead, I picked up a notebook on the bedside table. Emiko leaned over slightly to look.

"Working on your song again?" she asked as she finished braiding my hair and scooted forward to sit next to me.

"Yes," I said, looking at the lyrics I had written so far. "But it needs some revision. I may throw this form out and start all over."

"You just started that one," Emiko said. "Just give it a chance."

I made a face at it. "I don't like it that much, though."

Emiko plucked the notebook out of my hands and read through the lyrics. "Did you finish it yet?"

"No."

"Well, finish it! Finish it, and then do some touching up, if you must, but this sounds good. Did you base it off of something?"

I shrugged. "You know I did."

Almost every song I've tried writing for myself since I was twelve has been based off of the song "Defying Gravity" from Wicked. I just liked the message in it so much, and I could never get that song out of my head.

Emiko tossed the notebook back. "Why don't you ever try to come up with your own message? Something unique to you?"

I shrugged. "I don't really have any message I want to convey."

"I don't believe that."

"You don't have to," I said.

Emiko rolled her eyes at me. "Fine, whatever. I'll leave you to it. Goodnight, Ayame."

"Goodnight," I said as she left the room.

I stayed up for a while, petting the cat and trying to think of some way to end the song, but I just couldn't find the right words. They would be there, just within my grasp, for the clearest moment, and I would grab for the pen to write it down—but then I'd lose it again.

Eventually, it was late, and I had to go to sleep.

* * *

The next day at the end of school, Mariko approached me. "Ayame! Did you enjoy the music club? Andou said that you were very good."

I smiled a little bit, embarrassed. "Well, that was nice of him to say. He was also quite amazing."

Mariko hesitated a moment. "Today is…Tuesday. Andou said that the club doesn't meet Tuesdays."

"I heard that, too," I said.

"Maybe…you and Emiko would like to join me after school?" she asked timidly. "It's just that I thought of a wonderful way for you to meet new friends."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "That's very nice of you to offer. I have no problem with it." I looked over at Emiko, who had obviously been listening in.

She yawned. "I can probably stay. Dad can deal. I'll just tell him I was working on the new song."

Mariko smiled. "Great! I'll take you over to the clubroom."

"Clubroom?" Emiko asked.

"Yes! The Host Club is a really fun club," Mariko assured us.

"_Host Club_?" Emiko asked in alarm.

"Yes! You see Tamaki-san, and Kyouya-san?" she asked, pointing them both out. I remembered Tamaki-san from the previous day, but I hadn't noticed Kyouya-san, who was a very serious looking boy. "They're both in it. Tamaki-san is the president."

"I…see," I said. "Well, we look forward to it."

"No, we don't," Emiko muttered, but she didn't say it loud enough for Mariko to hear. I only heard it myself because I was waiting for it.

Mariko smiled. "That's wonderful. Let me get my books."

She scurried away to her desk, and Emiko and I looked at each other.

"Oh. My. God," Emiko said. "You know, I think it would have been polite of her to tell us just _what_ she planned on having us do, and it also would've been intelligent of you."

"It's not a big deal," I said. "It's just today. We don't ever have to visit that club again after this."

Emiko stared at me. "I don't want to visit them at all."

"Deal with it."

"Just because some girl with big eyes asks you to hang out with her doesn't mean you have to."

I blushed. "Mariko is being very nice to the two of us—"

"To _you_."

"—and I think we should be nice in return. Suck it up. You may enjoy yourself."

Emiko grumbled at her desk. We'd had a much better day today. Well, I had. Emiko had managed to stay awake the entire class, but she was amazingly behind the curriculum. It was almost better when she was asleep. Then, at least, she could use her tiredness as an excuse to not knowing a question, but more than once today, the teacher called on her, and she stumbled through the question like she was in the fifth grade. A couple boys had started making fun of her, but she'd quickly silenced them. And got sent outside of the class. But I didn't think she'd have any more problems this year with the other students.

I'd gotten to know a few new students, namely Mariko, her brother Andou, and Mariko's best friend, Harumi. They seemed like nice kids. The teachers were all impressed with me, but I felt kind of bad, because I wasn't actually a good student. At my old school, I'd been an average kid. I'd already learned everything they were teaching here, though.

I picked up my books and scooped them into my bag, holding it at my side. Emiko yawned and stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder, holding a couple of books in her hands. We looked like a contradictory pair.

Mariko returned to us, Harumi at her side. Harumi was a short brunette girl with a girlish face and shy, darting blue eyes. She smiled at me and Emiko.

"Harumi and I go to the Host Club every day," Mariko gushed to us. "Almost every girl at this school has been there. We all love them."

"What's so exciting about boys?" Emiko muttered as she followed Mariko out of the classroom.

Harumi giggled a little. "They're not just _boys_. They're _beautiful_! And so charming, too! Haruhi-kun is just the kindest person I've met."

"Harumi-kun?" I asked, confused. "There's another one?"

"No, not Haru_mi_, Haru_hi_," Harumi explained. "Haruhi is a boy."

"I've always found that amusing," Mariko said. "Harumi's favorite host is the one who may as well have her name."

Harumi giggled again. "Haruhi is just the sweetest little thing, though. He has such nice skin, too."

Mariko laughed. "Honestly, if you want to talk about the 'sweetest little thing,' talk about Honey-sempai! Oh, my, I adore him! He is the cutest person alive."

Emiko and I exchanged glances.

"At least we don't have to say anything," I muttered to her.

Sure enough, Mariko and Harumi kept up their gushing conversation the whole way to the Host Club.

"I wonder which one they'll like?" Harumi wondered, looking at us.

"You know, come to think of it, notice their height," Mariko said. "They're about the same height as Mori-sempai!"

"Emiko, maybe," Harumi agreed. "I don't know, Ayame is a little shorter, though."

"Here we are," Mariko said excitedly, stopping at the door of a music room. She turned the handle.

A wall of rose petals rushed out to greet us. Emiko freaked out, snorting and wiping the petals out of her face. I raised my eyebrows a little bit. Mariko and Harumi rushed in to see…

Cats?

A bunch of boys were sitting around the room, wearing furry cat costumes and cat ears. Their noses were darkened, and whiskers were glued to their cheeks. I couldn't help but let out an involuntary _eep_ at the cuteness of it all.

Emiko stared, gaping. "What the f—"

"What are their names?" I interrupted, directing the question at Mariko and Harumi.

Harumi started pointing. "Well, those are—"

"What have we here?" Two voices said simultaneously. I looked around to see two identical twin boys (probably hosts, based on their cat costumes) standing on either side of Emiko and me. They held out roses. "New guests? Come and play with us. We'll be sure to make it fun for you."

I smiled unsurely down at them. The one standing next to me blinked suddenly. "Whoa. You're tall."

"And you're short," I joked. "Hello, I'm Kazami. What's your name?"

He grinned. His face was very handsome, but reminded me of a fox. Something kind of sly and conniving. His red hair didn't help that image, either. "I'm Hikaru."

"I'm Kaoru," the other one said.

"We're the Hitachiin twins!" they said together, coming to stand next to each other, their arms around the other's waist.

I smiled, while Emiko said, "Hitachiin? That sounds familiar…"

"Their mother is a famous fashion designer," Mariko told her. "And their father invents software."

"Fashion designer!" Emiko said, snapping her fingers. "That's right! Your mom's the one we're advertising this upcoming concert!"

"We know," one of them (I think Kaoru) said. "Our parents adore your band. Mom's been going on about getting to dress you guys up all last night."

I heard a noise, and turned around to see Tamaki-san in my face. He was surrounded by sparkles, and held a red rose. "Why, hello, beautiful classmate. You couldn't bear to be away from my presence for more than a few minutes? I understand…"

I didn't want to injure his pride, so I remained silent.

"Ooh, Honey-sempai is here!" Mariko squealed. "Ayame, come meet them!"

I was very grateful to Mariko's pulling hand, as it brought me away from the rather flamboyant boys. Emiko was still lost among them, though, and I laughed a little bit at her misfortune. Harumi abandoned her a second later to sit with a small, brunette boy who I could only assume was Haruhi.

Mariko let go of me to rush forward and greet someone. I turned my head forward to see who it was just as I collided with someone's back. Blinking, I peeled my forehead off their neck.

"Sorry!" I gasped as a gigantic boy turned around to stare at me. "I wasn't paying any attention! Please forgive me!"

"…It's alright," he said quietly, rubbing his neck.

I took a deep breath as my heart skipped. He wasn't at all a bad looking boy. He was about as tall as me, maybe a little taller, with nice black hair. He was pretty huge and looked kind of scary, but I don't think I'd ever seen anyone more handsome before.

"Mori-sempai," Mariko said, "that's Ayame! I have to tell you her first name, because otherwise she'll try and give you her last name."

I blushed.

A little blond boy wearing a high school uniform bounded forward, a bunny under his arm. "Hi, there, Aya-chan! Nice to meet you! Wanna come eat cake with me?"

"Uh…"

"Sure, she does," Mariko said, taking my arm and pulling me along again.

We sat down on a sofa across from Mori-sempai and who I guessed was Honey-sempai, though I couldn't imagine how such a small kid could be in high school.

"Are you new, Aya-chan?" Honey-sempai asked, as Mori-sempai handed everyone a plate of strawberry cake. He himself didn't eat any.

"Yes," I said slowly, drawing my gaze away from Mori-sempai. "Emiko and I just transferred here yesterday."

"Where did you go to school before?" he asked, and finished the entire slice of cake before him in one gulp.

I blinked.

"Uh…New York City," I said.

"That's interesting," he said. "You're Japanese, though?"

"Yes. My family just travels a lot. This is actually the first time Emiko and I have ever lived in Japan, although we grew up speaking Japanese and everything."

Honey-sempai looked at me thoughtfully. "That's really cool!"

I smiled, feeling at ease with this tiny munchkin. "Yeah! What about you, Honey-sempai? Have you ever lived somewhere else?"

"Nope. I've always been in Japan, but we have vacation homes in lots of other places," he said. "I don't think we've ever been to New York, though, have we, Takashi?"

"No," Mori-sempai said.

"What's it like?" he asked.

I found myself having difficulty looking away from Mori-sempai again. "Well, um, I liked it, and so did Emiko. It's a lot different from most other places in the States, though."

Honey-sempai seemed to find this an acceptable answer. "And how are you, Mari-chan?"

Mariko grinned girlishly. "I'm really good, Honey-sempai! You know, I found some pictures yesterday that I thought you'd like to see!"

She pulled out a few snapshots of baby penguins.

Honey-sempai went crazy over there, adoring them all. He and Mariko launched into a swooning discussion of the pictures.

Mori-sempai leaned over to get a glimpse, and his expressionless face seemed to soften. He liked animals. That was so cute.

He looked up and caught me looking at him. I blushed.

"So, um, Mori-sempai, what kind of things are you interested in?" I asked.

He stared at me for a few moments before saying, "…Well, I guess I like a bunch of things."

"Like what?" I pressed. "You like animals, I can tell. You liked looking at the penguins."

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Well, what else?" I asked. Mori-sempai wasn't a conversational type, but that was okay. I was used to talking to unresponsive things. Cats, delicious food, computers that don't work…you get the idea.

"Kendo," he said.

"What's that?" I asked. "I've heard of that, but I never really found out what it was. It's kind of like fencing, right?"

"It's a modern form of it," he agreed. "It's based off of samurai swordsmanship."

"Wow, that's so cool," I said.

"And…what do you like?" he asked. He seemed a little uncomfortable talking.

"Music," I admitted. "I have to say that I don't have any life outside of it, which is kind of pathetic." I laughed, just now realizing the truth in what I'd said. "Do you like music?"

"I…don't listen to much," he said. "But I like what I do listen to."

I smiled. "So…you guys meet here everyday?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to come back, Aya-chan?" Honey-sempai asked, jumping into the conversation.

"Yeah, I think I will," I said. I did my best not to look at Mori-sempai.


	4. A Host's Discussion

**Emiko's POV**

After Ayame, Mariko, and Harumi abandoned me, I was left between the two twins and Takami, or whatever his name was.

"So, princess, what type do you like?" Hikaru asked. "Maybe the two of us catch your special attention…"

Kaoru suddenly made a sad face. "Hikaru…do you ever wish…you had a cute girlfriend to play with, instead of me…?"

Hikaru turned to him, his eyes widening slightly. He put his arms around his brother's waist, gazing deeply into his eyes. "Kaoru, don't say that. You know you're the one I have the most fun with. I'd never let you go for some girl."

"Hikaru…"

Two girls passing by stopped dead in their tracks, pointed, and started squealing like there was no tomorrow.

"Ohmygoshthey'resocute!" they squealed in unison. "How sweet!"

"What the…how is _that_ sweet?" I spluttered. "I'm leaving!"

I started for the clubroom door, but Blondie stood in front of me. "Don't leave us, princess. I understand how those two dopplegangers could be unpalatable. I think maybe…you'd prefer _me_," he said, leaning in and stroking my chin with his fingers.

I gagged and slapped his hands away. "Don't touch me, Blondie!"

He gasped. "My, oh, my, if you aren't trying to hold my hand! But princess, if you want, all you have to do is ask," he said, taking my hands in his.

I stared down at him. "You're a midget."

He started to open his mouth to reply, but I pinched his hands. He gasped and retreated to a corner, a blue cloud of woe hanging over him. I rolled my eyes. "Drama king."

"It's very strange that you're entirely untouched by Tamaki's charm," a cool voice said near me. "But I guess we all have our types. Have you any inclinations, Kazami-san? Perhaps I could recommend someone to you?"

I sized the speaker up. I remembered him from our class. He was pale, and had an angular face—but an extremely attractive one, framed by dark hair and glasses. He held a little black notebook in his hand. He looked pretty nice in the cat costume.

"Who're you?" I asked lazily.

"I am Ohtori Kyoya," he said, extending his hand.

I shook it. His handshake was firm and confident.

"Are you a host, too, or just gay?" I asked blatantly.

He smiled. "I can assure you, Kazami-san, that I do not harbor any romantic feelings for any male. I am, indeed, a host."

"So, what…'type'…are you supposed to be?"

"My character has been deemed the 'Cool Type.'" I snorted. He ignored me. "Tamaki is the prince of the host club, although you obviously remain as entirely unimpressed by him as you were yesterday. The twins are the 'Little Devil' types. Your sister is sitting with Mori-sempai and Honey-sempai. Mori-sempai is our 'Strong, Silent Type' and Honey-sempai is our 'Shota' type. And over there is our 'Natural,' Mr. Haruhi Fujioka."

I ran my eyes over all of them. The whole idea of this club bored me.

"You might give us a try," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "Who knows? You may find someone you like. You seem like a reasonable human, so maybe Haruhi would be best for you? He's occupied at the moment, but if you wouldn't mind waiting, you could meet him."

I shrugged. "Whatever. You're a host, right?"

"That is correct."

"Well, do _you_ have any girls with you right now?"

He blinked. "No, not at the moment. I am, of course, open to customers, though I suppose I usually don't look like it."

It was true. He'd just been standing there, writing in his little black notebook, watching everything that was happening in the room.

"Well, what if I want to hang with you?" I asked. "I don't feel like waiting for some puny brunette to finish his flirting."

Kyoya smiled. "I see. Well, miss, allow me to escort you to a seat."

I sauntered behind him. He came to a table and pulled back a chair, I guess meaning for me to sit in it. I didn't. I pulled out my own damn chair and sat down, leaning back. He didn't seem fazed, though, and sat down himself in the seat he was holding.

"Tell me, Kazami-san, have you lived in Japan before now?"

"Nah," I drawled. "This is our first time—well, Ayame and me. Our parents are Japanese, obviously, but we've lived in America, Germany, and Italy until this year."

"I see. Did you enjoy living in those places?"

"Yeah," I shrugged. "Sure. They were okay. I get bored easily, though."

"Yes, you seem like that type," he remarked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped, looking at him sharply.

Kyoya only smiled faintly. I noticed, though, that this whole time, what I'd interpreted as a smile was more of a smirk. "I meant no offense, Kazami-san. It's the kind of personality you exude, though. I'm not the only one to think so."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, so people think they can decide on my personality already, after _how many_ days? Tch. Punks…"

"You're also very excitable, I think. Would this be true?" He asked, raising his very attractive eyebrows. Pretty boy. What does he do, pluck his eyebrows to keep them so thin?

"…Whatever," I said after a pause. Kyoya took out his notebook and jotted something down. "What are you writing down in there?"

"Oh, a bit of this and that," he said vaguely.

"That doesn't make much sense," I muttered.

A different girl approached the table Kyoya and I were sitting at. "Hello, Kyoya. May I join the two of you?"

"If Kazami-san has no problem with it," Kyoya said charmingly. He smiled at me. "Kazami-san?"

"I don't control her," I said lazily, which both of them took to mean yes. The other girl sat down.

She had a nice face, though she wasn't necessarily pretty. "Hello, Kazami-san. My name is Miyoharu Rei, but please, just call me Rei-chan."

I nodded. "Cool. Just call me Emiko."

Rei smiled and looked at Kyoya. "Kyouya, have there been any new albums of the hosts yet? I've exhausted all the old ones already!"

"After only a week, Princess Rei? How astonishing. You really are a bright girl to read them all so quickly." Kyouya smiled charmingly, and a red flush rose in Rei-chan's cheeks. "Unfortunately, we're still compiling pictures for a new album. I don't expect them to come out for another week."

Rei's face fell. "Aw…that's too bad. They're so much fun to look at!"

"Don't be too upset, Princess Rei. We have other media for you to purchase if you need something to entertain you until the new album. For example…an Ouran High School Host Club poster, featuring your favorite host? I could give you a discount, for being such an eager guest, too."

I blinked. This guy sure knew how to make a sale, didn't he?

"You sure are a charming sneak, aren't you?" I muttered, watching as he pulled out a form, asking Rei for the poster quantity and her signature.

"Emiko!" Rei gasped. "Kyouya could never be a sneak! He's one of the most well-bred people you could meet."

"Fine, then, he's a miser, taking your money like that."

"It's up to the guests if they want to pay for our club's products. I have no influence over the sales," Kyouya objected.

Rei and I both raised our eyebrows at him.

"Well, for that comment, I'll forgive Emiko her observation," Rei said teasingly. "Because Kyouya certainly does do his best to get the guests to buy things from the club."

Kyouya blinked and then coughed. "Ah, well, it seems I've been discovered."

Rei giggled, and I snorted. "He can't get around that one, can he, Rei-chan?"

"Am I being ambushed by the two of you?" Kyouya asked pleasantly.

"Heck yeah, shorty," I said.

We chatted like that for a while. I liked Rei a lot, and Kyouya wasn't too bad, but I could totally tell he was a two-faced little brat. I've been with too many movie star actors for this puny kid to be able to fool me. He seemed to realize it, too. Good. I didn't want there to be any misunderstandings between the two of us.

When I saw Ayame get up from her table and start to leave, I got up, too. I said goodbye to Rei and Kyouya, and hurried over to my twin.

"So?" I asked her. "What did you think?"

She had a weird expression on her face, and she didn't say anything until after we left the host club room, when she looked at me and burst out laughing.

"That's such a silly club!" she gasped. "I mean, I'd go back to it again. It seems like fun. But it's so silly!"

I laughed with her. "Man, that dude I was with, who was in our class today? The one with glasses? He's such a creep! He steals money from customers and nobody even notices him doing it, because he pretends to be cool about it."

Ayame smiled. "The two boys I was with were so cute! I loved them. Apparently, the tall one, Mori-sempai, never talks, but I got him to, and I had a nice little conversation with him about animals. And the littler boy was so sweet! He acts like a little boy."

I snorted. "Of course you got the silent one to talk to you. Who wouldn't want to talk to you?"

She smiled and blushed a little, and I grinned. I love my twin.

"Maybe I'll go with you if we ever come again," I continued. "You know, to the two guys. I think I'd like to try all of them out, and see if any of them are worthy of attention. Kyouya definitely isn't. He's boring. But that girl who came to sit with us was nice. Her name was Rei, and we hit it off pretty well."

"I saw her," Ayame admitted. "She was cute."

"I think she's straight."

"I don't mean it that way! Why do you always twist it like that?"

"Because you get so mad when I do," I teased.

She tried to frown at me, but I could see her smiling underneath it. I checked my watch.

"So, we have a lot of time before we need to be home. What should we do?"

"Well…we could go for some ramen? Or go to the studio. You need to get a song written, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to do that right now. I want a break!" I drawled. "Let's go look for ramen."

I called Klaus as we left the school and waited for him to come pick us up. When he finally came, Ayame spoke rapidly with him in German, and I slid in, amazed at their chatter. I sucked at learning languages, but Ayame picked them up so easily!

"What are you saying to him?" I muttered to her.

"I'm saying hello," she said shortly.

"It's sure is taking long," I grumped. "Ask him if he's seen any good ramen places."

She rolled her eyes and asked, and, very unsurprisingly, he shook his head no. So we sighed.

"Time to go on an adventure!" Ayame said.

Klaus pulled away from the curb.

* * *

We found a ramen place that wasn't the best, but it was okay. When we got home, we holed ourselves up in my room to work on homework. It was getting dark out, and we heard the door open as one of our parents got home.

"Emiko!" my dad called. "Come here!"

"Hang on," I hollered back.

Ayame rolled her eyes. "He just can't stop ordering you around, can he?"

I didn't say anything. You know how my dad didn't like Ayame? Well, the feeling was mutual. Ayame hated him, too. For a long time, she really loved him, and had pretty bad self-esteem due to the way he treated her, but for a while now she's stopped trying to be loved by him. Now she just hates him, but I think it causes her as much pain as it did before.

I made a mark on my math homework before hurrying down the stairs to the main lobby. "Hi, dad. What's up?"

He looked at me in annoyance. "Where is your sister?"

"She's doing homework."

"Tell her to come when I call her!"

"Dad, you called for me to come down."

He frowned. "Well, I want both of you down here. Go get her."

So I ran back up, and tried to get her to come downstairs.

That's when the trouble started.

"Tell him I'll come when I finish my homework," she said loftily. "It shouldn't take too long."

When I told him that, he turned red in the face and stormed upstairs. I sighed and sat down on the stairwell, waiting. I heard him raise his voice as he looked in all the wrong rooms for Ayame, and then finally find her in my room, where he started yelling. Then I heard Ayame start yelling right back. How can someone so quiet make so much noise?

The cat rubbed up beside me, and I petted him. "Hey, Pixel. Too loud for you, too?"

He sat in my lap as I scratched behind his ears, and my mom came into the house, talking on the phone. She heard the yelling upstairs, her face darkened, and she walked right back outside. I blinked.

A few minutes later, she came back in, her call finished. She saw me and smiled.

"How are you, Emiko?" She was obviously prepared to ignore Ayame and Dad upstairs.

"I'm tired and bored of homework," I muttered. I'd play along with her. "I need a tutor, I think. I'm so far behind all the classwork."

"I've noticed that," Mom agreed. "We need to stop pulling you out for work. We need to find suitable hours for you."

"Thank you!" I cried. "At least one person besides me thinks so!"

"Well, we all think that, but it's easier said than done, baby face," my mom said sympathetically, taking off her shoes and sitting down beside me. "You know?"

I frowned. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Did your father tell you about the interview?"

"The what?"

She sighed irritably. "A reporter is coming tomorrow to interview the entire family."

I groaned. "When?"

"At dinner."

"I think he was trying to tell us, before he and Ayame started fighting."

We listened for a few moments to the sounds upstairs.

Mom took a deep breath. "Okay, give me a minute. I'll go try to intervene."

"Yay for mom!" I said, applauding. She smiled and bowed.

"Thank you, thank you," she said, before standing. She flexed an arm. "Mom to the rescue!" she cried, running up the stairs.

I slumped against the staircase railing with Pixel and waited another hour for the fighting to stop.


	5. Someone's Hero

**Ayame's POV**

After about two weeks of school, I sat in a new classroom, with a new set of classmates staring at me during break. I sighed uneasily. The teachers had agreed that I was far too advanced to be in the class they'd originally put me in, so they moved me up a grade. I guess I was happy about it. I didn't like being in an easy class, after all. Still, I missed Emiko. She was still struggling in a class without me, which hadn't ever happened before. I missed Mariko and Harumi, too. They were nice to me, and had become my friends. The kids in this class didn't seem quite as friendly. They all looked a bit too serious.

Except for the two hosts in my class, Honey-kun and Mori-kun. I was sitting right next to Mori-kun. I hate to admit it, but they were the biggest perks to being in this class. I really liked them when I went to the Host Club that day. I hadn't been back since then, but they'd certainly made an impression on me. Honey-kun was so cute, and Mori-kun was…something else.

Anyway, during break, a lot of the students just stared at me for a while. I tried not to be disconcerted by it, but it's hard to remain unaffected when there are at least fifteen pairs of eyes staring you down, sizing you up. Not that I let it show. I knew better. I just pretended to doodle, even though I can barely even draw a square. Forget stick figures.

The bell rang for lunch. I stood, and started to leave, but too many people got in my way, so I paused to wait. Annoyingly enough, some people lingered in the doorway, not seeming to realize that they were holding other people up. I leaned against my desk, and sighed. I had a bento with me. I supposed I could just eat in the classroom. But it was my first day in the new class, and Emiko, Mariko, and Harumi would be waiting for me to tell them all about it. They would probably even worry if I didn't come.

People were still at the door, but I could probably get past them if I really wanted to. I picked up my bento and started to move, when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, Honey-kun on a chair, jumping to try and reach a box up high on a shelf. Mori-kun was talking to the teacher about something. I thought for a second, and then walked over, thinking to offer to help him.

As I stepped up behind him, I was just about to ask if I could help, when his fingertips managed to get a hold on the lowest stacked box on the shelf, and pulled down.

There were at least five other boxes on top of that one, and they _all_ started crashing down. Without thinking, I shoved myself closer, and shot my arms out over Honey-kun's head. The boxes fell into my arms, and Honey-kun shrieked as they made loud clunking noises. One of them broke open and spilled calculators out all over the floor. I stumbled a little as the last one fell on top of the stack of boxes on my arms. I could feel everyone in the classroom staring as I started to turn and put the boxes down on the desk. At the movement, another box fell open and spilled out pencils and pens and erasers.

"Did you see that?"

"Kazami-san just saved him!"

"She looks so cool!"

"I wish I was so tall!"

"I wish I could've saved him!"

These were the sorts of things I could hear fan girls muttering behind me. I turned to look at Honey-kun, who was staring up a me with his mouth open, a light blush on his face. We looked at each other for a long moment before Mori-kun arrived, stoically worried.

"Mitsukuni! Are you hurt?"

Honey-kun looked at Mori-kun, surprised. Then his eyes got teary, and he said, in a small voice, "I'm fine. I just wanted to reach the colored pencils so I could draw Usa-chan."

"_!_" went all the fan girls behind me. The floor rumbled as they all came dashing to see Honey-kun.

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Do you need anything?"

"Say thank you to Kazami-san," Mori-kun said impassively. "She saved your head."

Honey-kun turned to me, his eyes wide and sparkling. "Thank you so much, Aya-chan! It would've hurt lots if all that stuff hit me!"

"You're welcome," I said, rubbing one of my arms. It was already bruising from being hit so hard.

I got down and started picking up the calculators as the teacher came over to scold Honey-kun for being so reckless. Some of the fan girls got down to help. Mori-kun stood to watch over Honey-kun. I doubted that he was going to leave the blonde's side after that fiasco.

"Which box was the one with the calculators?" a girl asked me, and I pointed to it.

"You're not very talkative, are you?" another one kneeling next to me said.

"I'm just a little shy," I apologized. "It's something I need to work at."

"Well, actions speak louder than words," a boy said, who started picking up pencils. "It's lucky you were nearby when those fell!"

I wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so I just nodded and kept picking things up. "Sensei," I called, "was there an order these boxes had to be in?"

He glanced over from his scolding. "No, just keep the labels showing when you put them away."

"I would put the boxes away," a girl started timidly, "but I'm scared of standing on that chair…"

I stood, and took the box she had in her hands, and easily reached up and put it on top of the shelf. She smiled, and gave me an energetic thanks. She started handing me the other boxes as they were refilled with the other fallen objects, though we kept the colored pencil box out for Honey-kun. It took about ten minutes to do everything.

After we finished and left for lunch, I was surprised to find Honey-kun bouncing energetically beside me, grinning up at me, and Mori-kun walking silently behind us.

"Aya-chan is great, Aya-chan is great, Aya-chan is great," Honey-kun sang. "Hey, Aya-chan, do you want to hold Usa-chan? I think he likes you!"

"Uh…sure," I said.

He handed me the pink bunny, saying, "Be careful not to squeeze him too hard!" and I promised him that I wouldn't. I held it loosely and listened while he rambled on to me down the hallway. He talked a lot about cake and rabbits, and waved a blank piece of paper in my face, telling me about how he was going to draw Usa-chan on it.

"—and since you saved me, you _have_ to sit with me at lunch today! Okay?"

"But I have to sit with my sister," I said, a little alarmed.

"Aww. Can we sit with her, too?"

"Well—"

"Don't make yourself a nuisance, Mitsukuni," Mori-kun said.

"He's not a nuisance," I said quickly. "I was going to say that I'm sure she would be happy to meet the two of you." Not true. "You're welcome to sit with us if you'd like, Honey-kun."

He grinned and said in a loud, happy voice, "I will!"

I turned and smiled at Mori-kun. "Are you okay with that, Mori-kun?"

He stared at me for a second before mumbling, "I wouldn't mind it."

Well, I guess that's better than being totally offended by the idea. I couldn't tell if he was being polite or sincere, though.

The cafeteria was crowded when I got there, and Honey-kun bounced around, looking all over, trying to guess who my sister was. When I finally pointed her out, sitting with Harumi and Mariko, he smiled hugely and immediately started talking about how much we looked alike. We really don't, but I let him go on about it as he pleased.

When Emiko saw us coming toward her, her eyebrows went up. Mariko clapped her hands over her mouth, probably to stop herself from squealing. She's so cute! Harumi tried hard not to grin.

"Hi guys," I said, sitting down. "Honey-kun and Mori-kun want to sit with us today."

"Why?" Emiko asked bluntly.

"Because Aya-chan saved my head!" Honey-kun exclaimed joyfully. He immediately began to Emiko all about what had happened. Emiko watched me with raised eyebrows as he told us.

At the end of his story, Mori-kun tapped Honey-kun's shoulder and said, "Go get your lunch."

Honey-kun nodded and looked up at me with huge eyes. "Save us a seat, okay, Aya-chan?"

I promised that I would, and he climbed up onto Mori-kun's shoulders and was carried off to the lunch line. I sighed and opened my bento.

"Oh my goodness, I can't believe it," Mariko squealed. "He's so cute!"

"That tall one is creepy," Emiko drawled. "He just stands there, not saying anything. He's kind of scary looking, too."

"I don't think so," I said. "I think he's really…something."

I looked down at my lunch to hide my blush.

"He is pretty cool," Harumi agreed. "I actually like his scary face. It's refreshing."

They chatted about that for a while, before the pair came back and they abruptly found themselves mid-conversation about hair. I tried not to laugh and give them away. Emiko caught me in the act and smiled. She was trying hard to do the same thing.

"So how do you like your new class, Ayame?" Mariko asked.

"I don't know about it," I admitted. "The other kids are all so serious! I think if any of them tried to smile, it would crack their face in half." I glanced over. "Except for Honey-kun and Mori-kun, of course."

"No, I think Mori-kun's face would crack in half," Emiko said.

"Emiko! That was rude," I scolded.

She looked sheepish, as if she'd realized she'd teased him a bit harshly. "Sorry. Bad joke. I'm sure he can smile."

"Yes, and I'm sure it's very nice," I said.

"Do you girls like cake?" Honey-kun asked, breaking in. He showed us the multiple, fat slices of cake on his tray. I smiled, because I knew what was coming next.

"YES!" Emiko cried. "YES, I LOVE cake! It's the best invention in the entire world! It's up there with electric guitars and dolphins!"

Honey-kun grinned hugely. "It IS the best invention! You're right, Emi-chan! Would you like some?"

"YES!"

He handed her a slice of chocolate cake. And then I swear I saw love at first sight when Honey-kun saw Emiko finish her cake in one gulp. His eyes got big and starry. He blushed a little bit. I smiled, because I knew what would happen the minute he asked about the cake.

Mariko and Harumi were staring at Emiko in dismay. "Whoa…," they said in unison.

"How do you do that?" Harumi asked.

"That was…wow," Mariko muttered.

Emiko looked up, satisfied, and saw everyone staring at her. "What? It was good! I didn't know they had cake here."

Honey-kun, now completely infatuated with my twin, started talking to her. Mariko and Harumi lost themselves in their conversation, too. I smiled, and turned to Mori-kun.

"And how are you?" I asked.

His eyes darted a glance at me before looking away. "…I'm okay. You?"

"I have to say, I'm still feeling a little overwhelmed from the new class. I don't know how I feel about it. The students seem pretty stiff. Any idea what that's about?"

"No."

I laughed. "How blunt! Maybe I'm just imagining things, though. Do you think so?"

"…No."

I nodded. "I see." I looked over at Honey-kun. "He's pretty cute. He understands you without needing you to talk, doesn't he?"

Mori-kun didn't answer. I watched him stare at his food and take a bite of his lunch. After about a minute, I laughed again and said, "Did you forget the question?"

"No."

"Okay, then. Answer me. I won't let you go on in silence."

He glanced at me again. "He does."

"Thank you! It's the worst thing in the world to be ignored, don't you think?" When I said that, I thought of my dad. It's bad enough when he yells at me, but it's worse when he pretends I'm not there. "You better take good care of that kid, because I don't think you'll ever get a better friend than him."

This time his gaze definitely softened, a _lot_. "I think you're right."

His face was so gorgeous right then that I couldn't help my heart stuttering. I looked down at my food to hide the blush that was probably appearing on my cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm great!" I said in an upbeat way. Luckily, my voice wasn't stuttering like my heart. "So, what's your favorite color?"

"…"


End file.
